Page 22 of Rogue’s Reckoning

“Ezra,” he murmurs.

I blink. “Ezra?” I echo.

He nods. “Yes, my name is Ezra. My road name is Rogue.”

I have no idea what any of that means, but my heart feels full at his words. I do know that it’s something significant. I can feel it.

"Ezra," I breathe, savoring the way his real name feels on my lips.

His eyes soften as he looks at me. "You're the only one who’ll use that name. I haven't used it in years."

My heart pounds. This is a big deal for him, sharing this piece of himself. I lean in to kiss him softly, trying to pour all my gratitude and affection into it.

"Willow, I?—"

He's cut off by the shrill ringing of his phone. Ezra curses under his breath, reaching for it. His expression darkens as he checks the caller ID.

"I have to take this," he says apologetically. "Work stuff."

I nod, trying to hide my disappointment as he gets out of bed and steps into the other room to answer the call. Left alone, I can't help but wonder about the mysterious "work" that seems to constantly intrude on our time together.

I know Ezra's job is dangerous, possibly illegal. Part of me is terrified to know the details. But another part desperately wants to understand this side of him, to know all of him—the good and the bad.

As I wait for Ezra to return, my mind drifts to my family. I should probably check in with them, let them know I'm okay. But the thought of facing my mother's disappointment and my father's indifference makes my stomach churn.

I take a deep breath and call my mom.

"Willow, darling, where have you been? We've been so worried!" My mother's voice is laced with false concern as she answers.

"I'm fine, Mom. Just been busy with school."

"Well, you really should make more of an effort to keep in touch. Ivy calls us every day, you know. She's such a thoughtful girl."

And there it is. The inevitable comparison to my perfect twin sister. No matter what I do, I'll never measure up in their eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better,” I mumble.

“Dinner tonight,” she tells me, and her voice has that tone that brokers no argument.

“What time?” I sigh, knowing I’m in for an evening of passive aggressive comments posed as concern, constant put downs, and comparisons to Ivy.

“Seven,” she responds. “I’ll let Ivy and your father know that you’re alive.”

I bite back my anger. “You do that, Mom. I’ll see you tonight.” I end the call and take a steadying breath. I’ve not even seen her today and I’m already angry. God, tonight is going to be awful.

I'm pulled from my thoughts by Ezra's return. His face is set in hard lines, jaw clenched tight.

"Everything okay?" I ask hesitantly.

He nods, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. "Yeah, just some stuff I need to take care of. I'm sorry, Little Flower, but I need to go."

Disappointment washes over me, but I force a smile. "It's okay. I understand. I should probably head home anyway. I have dinner with my family tonight and I need to get ready."

Ezra's expression softens slightly. He comes over to the bed, cupping my face in his hands. "I'm sorry," he says again, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

I nod, leaning into his touch. "Be careful," I whisper, unable to shake the feeling of unease his sudden departure has stirred in me.

He gives me a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Always am, Little Flower." With one last kiss, he's gone, leaving me alone in his apartment.

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